


Restoration

by FoxRafer



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-31
Updated: 2008-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drifting apart, coming together</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restoration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caras_galadhon (Galadriel)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel/gifts).



> Written for [**caras_galadhon**](http://caras_galadhon.livejournal.com/) as part of the 2008 [**slashababy**](http://slashababy.livejournal.com/) exchange

The evening was mockingly bright. Clear sky, sparkling moon, the gentle light from street lamps softening the lane. The only blot on the night was Viggo's absence in the house and it overshadowed everything in Sean's mind.

Waiting was never one of his strong suits and his patience had long since run out. Too many nights on his own, too many to enjoy the extra time to himself. He grew increasingly frustrated at the excuses: late nights at the office, dinners with clients, drinks with friends. Every night he went to bed uneasy, not sure which he'd prefer: Viggo having an affair or just not wanting to be home. He felt they'd have more of a chance surviving the former.

Yet he knew there was love. He remembered falling hard, both terrifying and exhilarating. He remembered the first time he knew it was returned, something in the look in Viggo's eyes and the touch of his hand, the certainty bringing a warmth he could still feel today. But he couldn't remember the last time either of them had said the words, had fully acknowledged its presence.

More sadness than anger. It was no mystery how they had reached this place. Too much time taking too many things for granted. They're both to blame. But Sean is ready to talk, to finally try and start again.

Now an anniversary of sorts and he waits. Had thought of going to the pub, maybe taking in a movie, of purposefully being the last one home tonight of all nights. In the end he brought work home, poured over spreadsheets and forecasts, tried to not listen for the door.

# # #

The halls were silent. The steady white noise of office machines reduced to a single computer in a lonely office. No other light but the glow from the screen, unnoticed and unused for many minutes. Viggo glanced at his watch, the clock on his phone; time passed at an aggravatingly slow pace. He stood in annoyance, at himself or Sean he didn't know.

He was down to busy work, nothing that wouldn't keep until the morning. But still he was finding excuses to stay at the office, even tonight. He wondered if Sean would remember why today was important, wondered if they would survive if he didn't.

Yet he knew there was love, remembered its strong pull, magnetic and undeniable. He marveled at its simplicity then, how easy it had been to see and feel it in everything they did or said. And still it settled around them, silently wrapped itself about them despite all recent efforts not to nurture it.

No fights, no deliberate hurts. Just drifting, slow and steady movement away from each other. They let the important things go unsaid. Now all those absent words were piled high between them and Viggo could barely find the cracks. But if ever things could be put right, tonight was the time to start. Before more time was wasted, he grabbed his briefcase and headed for home.

# # #

Sean heard the car in the drive, saw the lights switch off. He looked at the clock and felt slightly more hopeful; Viggo was home earlier than normal and Sean dared to think it might be more than mere chance. Mouth suddenly dry, he put the papers back in his briefcase and walked to the kitchen to make them some tea. He imagined they'd need something stronger before the night was over, but this felt like the place to start. They're first date had been a long afternoon in a cafe over several cups of tea. The first meal he had prepared for Viggo had been a full English breakfast with a large pot of earl grey to keep the cold winter morning at bay. Their first meal when they moved in had been tea and toast, shared amid the disarray of boxes and the chaos of joining two lives. Now he hoped tea would help them start mending the rift that divided them.

Viggo stayed in the car for a minute, letting his breathing even out. He didn't feel ready, had nothing prepared to say. But if not now, when? He looked at the house that had been their home for the past five years, pictured Sean inside. They had spent countless hours turning this into a warm haven. Studying color swatches and painting for days until every room was fresh and new. Building new kitchen cabinets together, relishing every ache and sore muscle at the end of each day. Turning the neglected dirt patch into a beautiful garden, spending months carefully planning, planting and cultivating until it flourished. And always at the end of the day celebrating each new accomplishment together, falling into each others arms, gently easing into sleep. He missed Sean's strong embrace, missed how effortless it had been with one another. He hoped tonight would see them slowly returning to those simpler days.

# # #

They faced each other in a room filled with the familiar, now cold and almost foreign. Difficult words came slowly, hesitations and fractured starts. Finally they began along the edges, safer ground to help get their footing. Several minutes were spent reminding themselves of the two men who were best friends before the two friends became lovers. Above everything else there had always been deep respect and friendship and as these early memories began to filter through they settled into deeper waters, continued inward, sifting through old hurts.

What had once seemed easy and obvious was now troubled and difficult. They wrestled through accusations and obstinacy, got lost in fits of temper and recriminations. Yet despite harsh opinions and angry words, they still found the courage to take a step back and start again.

Hours passed and they had moved from the living room to the kitchen to the den. Words began to flow more easily, beginnings of understanding began to grow. Slowly the fog of the last couple of years began to clear; the careless slide in opposite directions became more vivid. It stood in sharp contrast to the feelings that still connected them and they knew it paled in comparison.

Tonight was just a beginning; more time was needed to fully mend what had been broken. But as they pulled each other close, tensions began to ease and hope was buoyed by old promises and the anticipation of new memories. On this day eight years ago, they gave voice to the love that still bound them together. This night they honored its power and recommitted to its nourishment.


End file.
